Nowhere Man
by SyllableFromSound
Summary: "He was being agonizingly consumed, engulfed by the black that dwelled inside him...and that was much more terrifying." Death the Kid angst story, inspired by the Beatles song "Nowhere Man". Rating changed to T for language!
1. Chapter 1

**The last thing I need right now is another story to distract me. XP But I was listening to "Nowhere Man" and well...THIS happened. ^^ Written in about half an hour of frenzied typing, so it's probably not that good...usually I think more about the plot before writing. Tell me if there are any mistakes, please. This will most likely end up as a two-shot, but I can make more chapters if you like this. The words in bold italics are the song lyrics. R&R!**

**Soul Eater belongs to Okubo-sensei. "Nowhere Man" belongs to the Beatles. In other words: I OWN NOTHING!**

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He was _nothing. _

Kid had decided that long ago, much longer than anyone could have guessed. He had sat for hours and hours on end, pondering what _nothing _really was. It was emptiness, it was mediocrity, it was the sinking feeling of simply blending in and slowly dissipating, disappearing into the shadows until there was _nothing _left.

_**He's a real nowhere man,**_

_**Sitting in his nowhere land.**_

_Emptiness…_

He had long since given up on emotions. They only caused trouble. What was the point? No one would pay attention to how he felt anyway. He saved his voice. He told not a soul about what he was feeling, because he felt _nothing._

And yet, he did feel. Emptiness is tangible. And the more one takes out, the more that emptiness, that _nothing_ness spreads. Oh yes, he felt it progressing throughout him and everything around him, gnawing at his insides. And you think he feels _nothing?_ You think he can't perceive pain? How wrong you are—he feels himself being eaten alive each and every day by the incessant burning of hatred for himself that flared up without warning and blazed brilliantly sometimes for days, leaving a gaping hole where there was once happiness.

_**Doesn't have a point of view,**_

_**Knows not where he's going to.**_

_Mediocrity…_

He had no real accomplishments to speak of. Being Shinigami-sama's one and only heir? That was no success story. It was simply by his birth—a lucky throw of the cosmic dice on his part—that he was blessed with such a position. The finding of his two loyal pistols? The best day of his life, yes—but again, he had merely stumbled upon them, a coincidence and _nothing _more. He hadn't even made them into Deathscythes yet. In fact, he had never done a thing in his life for himself. He didn't have Maka's strength or Black*Star's skill. He could only fight because he used his death god powers as a shield—how pathetic. Everything in his life, all of it, had come to him naturally.

He was lucky…and he hated that.

_Blending in…_

He was _nothing _precisely because he was something. He had become just another figurehead, and why not? He was the son of Lord Death. He was suave, perfect. He had friends, and everyone respected him.

Wait. Stop. Rewind.

They all respected HIM? No, that's not right—they respected who they thought he was. They do not—could not—respect who he really was. How can you respect _nothing?_

It was quite obvious.

Death the Kid was a useless human void of _nothing._

This is what he thought to himself as he sat by the window of his darkened room, with only the dull grayish light of the overcast day providing measly illumination. Not that it mattered—there was nothing to see in his room. He always kept it impeccable, after all. Wrinkle-free bed sheets, neat shelves, immaculate floors. Dust didn't dare settle down upon any surface in the perfectly symmetrical place.

"Symmetrical." "Asymmetrical." Two words that didn't fail to come out of his mouth at least twenty times per day. And once again, it wasn't him. The person that coughed up blood at the sight of improperly folded toilet paper wasn't him, but a stranger. That's not to say Kid didn't love symmetry—it was still his passion. But he didn't really feel the need to make a big show about it. He simply did so because those around him expected him to do so. He didn't think that having those three goddamned white lines in his hair made him garbage.

After all, he would be junk even with out the lines.

_**He's as blind as he can be,**_

_**Just sees what he wants to see.**_

_**Nowhere Man, can you see me at all?**_

He had been rescued from the Book of Eibon, from that horrifying blackness that threatened to swallow him. At least, that's what everyone else believed. And Kid allowed them to be blissfully ignorant—why spoil their fun?

He didn't let anyone know that he had not escaped from the darkness at all, not by a long shot. He was being agonizingly consumed, engulfed by the black that dwelled inside him…and that was much, much more terrifying.

Slowly, he wrapped his shaking, pale hand around the curved handle of the window. Slowly, he pushed it down.

And as it creaked open, very, very slowly…he looked down.

His room in Gallows Manor was located at least four stories above the hard concrete below. Would a fall like that kill him?

He hardly had time to wonder this before stepping out onto the ledge, his feet seeming to have a mind completely of their own.

He felt something touch his face—a single raindrop had made its descent from the drab ash-colored sky and landed on him. As more and more gradually began to fall with a growing intensity, he felt them run down his cheeks, caressing him…or were they his own tears? He didn't know anymore, and he really didn't care. All he cared about was his heart, which was beating faster and faster as the rain hit the ground harder and harder. It seemed to be pounding out a rhythm: _Enough…enough…enough…ENOUGH! _

Yes…enough. Enough of this _nothing _life. He moved his foot closer to the edge.

It was then that he heard a resounding crash behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

**And here's chapter 2! :D I really hope I did alright on it...I was kind of scrambling to finish it, since I really wanted to get it up today, so it's probably not very good. However, contrary to what I said in my last author's note, this will not be a two-shot. I'm actually having a lot of fun writing this story, so I'm going to expand it and make a few more chapters out of it. I sincerely hope you enjoy reading this, and PLEASE leave me a review! Also, if you want to leave a suggestion for what should happen in future chapters, I would be eternally grateful! And finally, thank you to the AMAZING people who reviewed, subscribed, and/or favorited this story! I love you all!**

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Patty Thompson was not stupid.

Of course, she had always been incredibly childish—anyone could see that. Even back in the days when she and her sister had been a couple of crooked street-rats in the concrete jungle of Brooklyn, seeming like they would be forever trapped in a deadly game of self-preservation…even then, she had an almost insane cheer about her. She'd learned that, if she wanted to live in a world that was happy and comfortable, she would have to make one up on her own. So she retreated into her land of giraffes and unicorns and ice cream and whatever else could take her away from the harshness of daily life, from the necessary evils of thievery and the cold, hard, filthy concrete sidewalks where she would sometimes have to sleep.

Now, even though she didn't have to do so in order to be content, she'd still kept her immature ways. She was still blissfully naïve, almost impossibly happy.

But the important thing is that, contrary to popular belief, she was far from stupid.

So when she suddenly looked up from the yellow blob she was coloring and began staring off into space, her brows furrowed in an expression of pure concentration, anyone else would have probably just assumed it was one of her whims and that she would return to normal soon enough, drawing and humming away with that happy-go-lucky smile on her face as though _nothing_ had happened.

Liz knew better.

She noticed that an unusual and uneasy quiet had settled into the atmosphere—she could no longer hear the short blonde singing about _nothing_ in particular or the faint scratching of crayon on paper. Apathetic cobalt eyes peered slowly over the magazine their owner was reading and rested on Patty, sitting upright on the edge of her bed. The younger Thompson's face was listless, mouth turned downward in an emotionless frown. Her huge sky-blue eyes were wide, trance-like, and the usual sparkle in them had been replaced by a certain sharp alertness.

With growing curiosity, Liz dropped her magazine, allowing it to fall off the bed and onto the floor. The room the sisters shared was the only place in the entire house where Kid allowed them to make everything as asymmetrical and unorganized as they pleased. As a result, clothes were routinely strewn across the floor, books and papers were shoved hastily and untidily into shelves, and chaos overall reigned throughout.

She approached her sister rather cautiously, not quite sure how to react to this spontaneous bout of seriousness. After a while, she spoke: "Patty? You okay?"

No response.

Liz sighed and ran her hand through her long, light brown hair. "Patty," she continued to coax in a slightly softer tone, "if there's something you need to say, you know you can say it."

The smaller of the two weapons did not so much as acknowledge her sister, keeping her back turned. Liz blinked at the back of Patty's head, then shrugged in surrender.

She was about to turn away as well when, almost on cue, the blonde at last spoke: "Can't you feel it, too?"

Liz cocked a thin eyebrow in surprise. It was a simple question, but in a way, it was almost chilling. The fact that it had come from Patty's mouth made it all the more eerie. And what had happened to her little sister's voice? It was no longer high and jovial, but much lower and quieter than normal.

Still, Liz wore her usual guise of indifference. "What are you talking about?"

"I know you can sense it, too," Patty replied in the same odd voice, still refusing to turn around. "You're Kid's partner as well, after all."

The brunette's eyes narrowed in uncertainty, concern beginning to build up inside. "Hang on, when did Kid come into this?"

All at once, Patty whirled around to face her twin. "Don't play dumb. You know he's been acting different."

Liz forgot all about appearing calm as her mouth suddenly fell open.

_So Patty's been feeling it too…_she thought to herself.

She had always found it amazing how, due to their incredibly high resonance rate, Kid always seemed to be able to _read _the sisters, seeming to pick up on their every mood in an instant, and vice-versa. They'd been able to do this since the day that they'd foolishly attempted to threaten and mug the young shinigami, which had proved to be the most miraculous blunder of their lives. To this day, though she'd never dare tell anyone about it, Liz still felt guilty about her original intentions when Kid first opened up his home to her and Patty. She'd only wanted to stay there for a short time to mooch off his fortune, then take off with the spoils of their insidious victory. But the connection between the threesome was quick to blossom, and once the two weapons realized that Kid had become a member of the family—that they now had someone else besides each other who they cared for and who would care for them—they saw that they wouldn't ever be leaving. Not because they couldn't, but because they _wouldn't. _Now that they had a home, they'd never have to leave. And Liz was eternally grateful to Kid for that reason.

That's why she'd grown more and more worried over the past few weeks.

The meister's decline hadn't occurred overnight. Nor did he make it at all obvious. No, Kid's regression had been gradual and subtle, over months and months. It wasn't clear what started it either—the symptoms of depression simply started popping up. First it was spending lonely nights up in his room, rejecting all company and attempts to lure him out. Then he started turning down invitations from his friends to go out and leave the manor, even though he had nothing else to do but sit inside—though when asked why he didn't want to come, he would always manage to come up with some carefully crafted excuse. It was little things like that, seemingly miniscule changes in his behavior and personality that could only be detected by those who knew him well enough.

Liz had tried to deny it—she'd try to tell herself that it was only her imagination, or that he was just having an off day. And he did an excellent job of hiding it on his own, putting on his usual stoic countenance and painting a smile on his face. Sometimes she even managed to convince herself that _nothing_ was really wrong.

But at the end of the day, she knew she was just lying to herself. She couldn't pretend forever, after all. She couldn't always pretend not to notice that those sickeningly formal, proper grins were all fake, every one of them cheap counterfeits. She couldn't pretend that it had seemed like forever since she'd witnessed one of his real smiles...she missed those rare moments in which he would break free from his usual, dignified nature, and a beautiful, wide smile would spread all the way from ear to ear. She couldn't pretend how long it had been since she'd heard his soft, surprisingly carefree laugh. Even his symmetry rants lately had become half-hearted.

And though she did not have the strength or will to admit it out loud, she knew Death the Kid was in suffering.

She was so lost in her own thoughts, it was only when Patty suddenly took her hand in a shockingly powerful grip and ran out into the hall at full speed, dragging Liz along with her. She didn't even realize at first that they were making a beeline for Kid's room.

"COME _ON_!" the young blonde urged frantically, yanking her sister's hand even harder.

"Patty, what the hell are you—"

She didn't have time to finish her sentence before, fueled by adrenaline, Patty quite literally kicked down the door to the death god's room. It was sent flying off the hinges and fell to the floor with a _crash._

And that's when they saw him.

Standing in the window.

Golden eyes wide with surprise and guilt.

Caught in the act.

And they both thought the exact same thing…

_Kid…why?_


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm sorry that this is up a day late. I wanted to do it on Sunday, but there was a sudden change in schedule so I only had about two hours to type (I know that sounds like a lot, but I'm a huge perfectionist in my writing XD) Anyway, I was kind of scrambling to finish this before tonight, so I feel like I was rushing WAAAY too much in this chapter, and that it's crappily done...*goes into corner of shame* I really hope it doesn't seem that way to you guys, because you deserve better. I also hope to include more of the song lyrics in the next chapter. THANK YOU ONCE AGAIN TO ALL REVIEWERS AND SUBSCRIBERS! You're all SO amazing, and I hope you'll continue commenting on this story! 8D Finally, without further pointless banter...PLEASE ENJOY!**

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From the instant he heard the _bang _of his victimized bedroom door slamming to the ground, he knew he was in trouble.

Immediately, he was yanked by an invisible hand out of his strange, surreal world—his world of raindrops and blackness and wretched heartbeats, his world of _nothing_—and was rudely tossed back into the unfamiliar place known as real life. He could not stop himself from whirling around with a look of complete shock in his honey-amber eyes, realizing too late that his expression completely betrayed him.

He saw his weapons. He saw them make eye contact with him. And what he saw in their gazes—the mixture of agony, rage, terror, and confusion all jumbled together into one indecipherable emotion—it made him want to rip himself apart, to tear out the organs in his chest just to rid himself of the hollow feeling inside.

_He _had caused them to be this way. _He _had been the one to hurt them, and he knew it.

Had he really sunk so far that he now hurt the two people that he undoubtedly cared most about? Maybe he had lowered himself so much that he was now beyond _nothing._

Again, he felt his heart rate quicken with each passing moment. He was reminded of "The Tell-tale Heart" as he felt that relentless rhythm once more, growing stronger and louder, the cursed beating that seemed to drive itself into his eardrums.

_Why won't it stop? Why won't my damn heart just stop already?_

_Ka-THUD…ka-THUD…ka-THUD…ka-THUD…_

The beating was rapidly sending him into the twisting downward spiral of _insanity…_

But he refused to let the sisters know of the tempest raging inside him.

He would _not _hurt them anymore.

So, he did what he always did. He automatically relaxed his tightly tensed body, allowing his shoulders to slump slightly while still retaining his usual dignified posture. He closed his gaping mouth and forced his breathing to slow to a more normal speed. He pretended he couldn't see his partners' furious, horrified glares. Then, he once again turned his lips upward into that artificial smile-that damned shadow of what once was, a brazen _lie _spread across his face.

It was _nothing _more than a mockery.

And for Liz, it was the final insult.

She exploded.

"_KID! _What in the name of hell do you think you're doing there?_ Get away from there, NOW! _I _know_ you're doing what I think you're doing-don't you _dare _try to deny it! And will you _wipe that fucking smile of your face! Are you listening to me? GET DOWN!"_

She paused for a moment to catch her breath, and the enraged, almost wild look in her eyes softened into one of pleading. Compared to her the fury of her last outburst, her next question was asked in a quivering voice, barely above a whisper: "Kid…w-why would you even think to…why didn't you tell us?"

His languid eyes met hers in a cool stare as he nonchalantly stepped away from the window. "What are you talking about, Liz? Aren't I allowed to get some fresh air when I need it?" His words were calm and unwavering, but he did not have his usual gaze—it didn't contain any of his usual alertness, or survey the area for any signs that the symmetry of the world was off. No…he seemed to almost be looking through her rather than at her, as though she were made of _nothing._

And she realized with a stroke of panic that his eyes were dead—totally, completely _dead._

…_**Nowhere Man, can you see me at all?...**_

And she couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand seeing him like this, putting on his façade while she was fully aware of the fact that he was dying inside. It killed a part of her as well.

And what killed her the most was that she didn't have the slightest idea as to what to do for him.

Fortunately, Patty solved that problem by kicking him in the jaw.

Liz's turned to her sister with a look of shock as Kid reeled backward, clutching his mouth in pain. The younger of the guns had taken on a threatening, almost terrifying stance. Her head was down, her short blonde bangs concealing her eyes. She stood up straight, her hands balled into small but powerful fists, like a fighter facing her opponent in the ring. From between clenched teeth, she spoke in a low growl. "Good. Now at least that smile's off your face so we can see what you really feel."

Kid paused, slowly letting his hand fall down to his thigh. His mouth hung slightly open, with a trickle of blood from Patty's kick dribbling down one side—he didn't even acknowledge the lack of symmetry. For a moment his glistening yellow eyes simply stared straight ahead, as if fascinated by something that wasn't there. He seemed to be frozen in time, lost within a trance that blocked out the rest of the world.

Then, he began to laugh.

It began as only a quiet chuckle, but gradually escalated until at last he burst into full-blown, humorless laughter. It filled the room, overpowering the sounds of the softly rumbling thunder and the steadily increasing patter of rain outside. He doubled over, unable to contain himself, and finally had to hold onto his shelf in order to keep from falling over.

It was the insane cackling of a madman…one who had succumbed at last.

And all the while, he was backing up, closer and closer to the open window behind him.

Liz barely noticed that the tears she had held back for so long had at last begun to stream silently down her face. Her unstable voice held a hopelessness that surprised even herself. "W-we lost him, Patty…he's gone."

The younger sister wasn't having it.

She flew at the shinigami, grabbing his shirt collar and slamming him into a wall. The expression in her eyes was something completely indescribable. It was a mixture of both fire and darkness, fury and fear. Perhaps there was even a hint of insanity as well. He continued to giggle maniacally as he stared back at her.

"_STOP THAT LAUGHING!" _Her scream echoed through the room as she shook him in an attempt to snap him out of whatever frightening frame of mind he had allowed himself to slip into.

Still, he only laughed louder. "Ha, ha…say, did you know? Did you know that there are about ten pints of blood in your body? _Ha!_ Think about how easy it would be to just _spill it all! HAHAHA!" _His wide, deranged eyes drifted almost longingly toward the window.

The snarl that escaped from the younger weapon's lips was _nothing _less than savage, like a wolf viciously defending its pack. Her threat came out in a hoarse whisper. "Kid…I swear to you that if you jump out that window, I will _not _hesitate to follow right after you."

He immediately stopped. He frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, as if trying to comprehend what the girl had just said.

"Kid," Liz called from behind the two of them, in a voice choked with sobs. Red tear stains ran down her cheeks, but her eyes held a steely determination. "I think we'd better tell you about what our lives were like before we met you…"

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**Yep...another cliffhanger...I'm so mean. XD And yes, next chapter will be mostly one big flashback, so BRACE YOURSELVES! I personally find Liz and Patty's backstory fascinating, so I hope you enjoy it too!**

**HIT THE REVIEW BUTTON AND I WILL WORSHIP YOU FOREVER! 8OOOOO**


	4. Chapter 4

**First of all, let me take a minute to say that I am really, really, really, really, REALLY sorry this took so long to update! T_T Let's just sat that between school and a case of writer's block for this plot, I just couldn't bring myself to get it done. So...*grovels* I AM SOOOO SORRY! **

**Alright, now that that's done, I believe a huge THANK YOU is in order for all those who reviewed, subscribed, and favorited. You all are incredibly, epically AWESOME, and honestly you are a huge inspiration to me. X3 **

**I feel like I got a bit lazy towards the end of this chapter..._ But seeing as this will be the last installment of "Nowhere Man" I don't want to end on a bad note. XD So I'll just say THANK YOU ALL once again for clicking on my story, and I hope that you ENJOY! 8DDD**

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_A city is a place of sound. The eldest Devil had learned this from her the time she had entered as a fresh and pure infant into this unclean, uncaring, merciless world. Like a huntress recognized the sounds of approaching prey, she had discovered from experience what each noise meant. She knew the sound of a broken beer bottle crunching beneath her black boots, glass shards glistening like cheap jewels. She knew the pounding footsteps of a panicked soul running from her, as well as those of someone coming after her—the sounds of both the pursuer and the pursued. She knew car alarms, crying children, the squeaks of hungry street-rats, the screams of the terrified…and of course, gunshots. She knew gunshots._

_What she now heard was the distant, throbbing dong of church bells, ringing out their single, deep, monotonous tone, calling in a flock worshippers to offer up their praises this early Sunday morning._

_Liz did not heed the bell's invitation—after all, what had God ever done for her?_

_The question was answered when a lump resting beneath a tattered, moth-eaten blanket stirred, then at last opened her eyes to greet the light of day: those large, innocent eyes that somehow seemed to always be viewing the world as if for the first time._

_If there truly was a righteous and almighty Being residing on a holy golden throne somewhere high above the clouds, He or She or It had at least provided her with one thing in this life._

_That thing was Patty._

_Said girl sat up on the dirtied mattress, groggily rubbing her eyes. "Mornin', sis…"_

_Liz had to grin. "Hey, Patty. Did you sleep alright?"_

_The younger girl's face lit up, suddenly no longer tired in the slightest. "Yeah! I had a dream about a big bunch of giraffes in the city! We all had ice cream, and went to the park…and then there was the best part! After all that, I got to snap all their necks with my bare hands!" She spoke with pure excitement, like a small child recalling a recent trip to an amusement park. "And I got to hear all the bones go snap, snap, snap! And then they got all limp and stuff, and they collapsed! Haha!"_

_Liz forced herself to keep the smile on her face, even though she could feel an invisible fist strike a hard blow straight to her gut. That feeling came to her only when she saw that her sister was spiraling deeper down into the insanity that came from living as a Brooklyn Devil for one's entire existence. That madness had been slowly gnawing away at Patty's mind and soul for years, and Liz knew it…but up until recently, it had been manageable. Perhaps her younger sister hadn't exactly been mentally stable, but she had still been the light of Liz's world. Now…she was different. That beautiful, glowing look of resilient joy and hope she'd always had was being slowly replaced by an expression of borderline dementia. Her lovely eyes, brighter than any sky, were starting to take on a crazed quality._

_Liz had one blessing in the world…and she was failing to protect that blessing. She had no way of saving Patty from herself. Patty, the only reason she had to continue and endure this wretched, damned life of a criminal. Patty, the thread onto which she clung in order to keep from falling into a dark and tempting abyss._

_The inability to rescue her sister was slowly killing Liz from the inside out._

_Patty seemed to detect her distress. "What's the matter, sis?" she asked in a voice full of genuine concern._

_Liz sighed. "I was just thinking about where we should go to get money today, Patty," she replied reassuringly._

_The younger Devil jumped up, shining locks of blonde hair bouncing. "Yeah! Then we can blow the bastards to hell after we mug them, right? BANG, BANG, BANG! There goes their heads!" Her cheery giggles echoed through the alleyway, scattering the mangy, beady-eyed rodents that also called the place home. _

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_Yes, a city is a place of sound. Sound and peril._

_A city is the angry thunder of bullets, determined in their deadly chase. A city is the danger of having one's delicate pink flesh penetrated by hard, heartless, emotionless metal. _

_A city is a couple of Devils on the run. _

_FUCK! I'm such a moron! This was the only thought Liz's racing mind could process as the shouts of angry men and another volley of gunshots sounded behind her. She and Patty had attempted to mug a man, at the time oblivious to the fact that he was part of a rival gang, which was now out for their blood._

_It's all my fault…it's all my goddamn fault._

"_SIS!" the younger sister's voice cried out from the brown-haired girl's clammy palm, where she had become a weapon. "Why can't you just blast those motherfuckers to hell so they'll stop coming after us?"_

"_I can't!" Liz's yell was shriller and higher than she'd meant it to be. The thugs were gaining on them: by the time she turned around to fire, she would already have been pumped full of ammo._

_So she continued to run, faster, faster than she ever believed she could. Adrenaline coursed through her veins to the frantic rhythm of her thudding heart. Even in the biting chill of a New York autumn, fat beads of salty sweat formed and lingered on Liz's forehead before finally descending down her temple, lazily caressing her flushed face as they dripped down. _

_It was then that there was a nauseating crunch, and she was overwhelmed by the white-hot agony of lead smashing into her arm, tearing mercilessly and unhindered through muscle and tissue, smashing vulnerable bone into glass-like shards. _

_She instinctively clutched her injured limb with a shout of pain, gritting her teeth and ignoring Patty's shocked screams as crimson liquid gushed out of her wound and stained her hand red. The men running behind were getting closer…_

_Without thinking, she rounded a corner and allowed the sensation of her body becoming metal overtake her. She fell to the ground in her pistol form, Patty hitting the floor beside her with a thud. Their pursuers unwittingly ran past._

_Liz transformed once again into a human the moment the last of the men's footsteps had faded into _nothing_ness…and instantly the excruciating, torturing feeling of her broken arm returned. She clenched her jaw until it ached in protest, trying anything to distract herself from the gunshot wound. _

_In a rapid, jagged flash of pink light, her sister changed back as well, fear for her sister apparent in her youthful face. "SIS! Are you okay? I'll fix it, I promise! I'll get those jackasses for you, okay?"_

_Liz forced the corners of her mouth upward into a wavering, watery smile, desperately attempting to comfort the younger girl. "N-no, Patty," she mumbled weakly. "Sis'll be fine. I-I just need a sling for my arm…and maybe a smoke. But I'm fine…" And even as she spoke in her calming tones, she knew that she would never have so much as a fraction of the hope and trust in life that Patty somehow managed to maintain. _

_After all, they were Devils…and everyone knows that all Devils go to hell._

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"That wasn't long before we ran into you, Kid…that's just how it was."

For several long minutes after Liz had finished recounting the story, silence pervaded the room, interrupted only be the noise of the persistent thundershower outside the window. "…So now do you see what we mean?" she asked in a hoarse and broken whisper. The memory of her past life had always been vivid in her mind, but speaking of it to another person gave the images locked in her mind a new dimension of reality.

She turned to said shinigami and saw him staring motionless at the floor, not reacting to her question. His silky hair fell around his face, locks of ebony and ivory, shielding the liquid gold of his eyes. Meanwhile, Patty was turned away from both of them, shoulders shaking very slightly.

The older of the weapons pressed on, despite the fact that her eyes were beginning to sting with the threat of tears. "You still think you don't have worth? You think everyone will just forget all about you if you killed yourself? Bullshit, Kid. Hell, if anything, you were the ones who gave _us _value—you _did _give us value…why can't you wrap your stupid striped head around that? Why do you keep wasting your life concerned about what you are?"

_**Nowhere Man, don't worry.**_

_**Take your time; don't hurry. **_

_**Leave it all 'til somebody else lends you a hand.**_

Still no reply was given.

"Kid…I asked you a ques-"

Without warning, he suddenly leapt up and hugged the two sisters at once, for once not commenting on their lack of symmetry. Despite the fact that his death-god skin was cold, his embrace radiated a gentle warmth that filled the room. Even if their souls hadn't been connected, Liz and Patty would have still been able to tell exactly what their meister was trying to say.

"You fucking idiot…" Patty quietly sniffed as she squeezed Kid more tightly, as though afraid to let go. None of the three were able to hold back their sobs any longer.

_Nothing_ can't stay _nothing_ forever…_something_ must always come in to replace it.

_**Nowhere Man, please listen:**_

_**You don't know what you're missing.**_

_**Nowhere Man, the world is at your command!**_


End file.
